


through a window, counting birds

by otachi



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 15:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otachi/pseuds/otachi
Summary: It’s something like 10 at night, and they’re sitting on the lawn of Jared’s house, and neither of them is saying a word.





	through a window, counting birds

**Author's Note:**

> [what a strange being you are - god know where i would be, if you hadn't found me, sitting all alone in the dark](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHUIoikgKT0)

It’s something like 10 at night, and they’re sitting on the lawn of Jared’s house, and neither of them is saying a word.

Jared’s sleepy - feels mellow and drunk on something incomprehensible - but the night feels warm enough that staying out just a little longer doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Evan’s pressed up against him anyway, head lolling just shy of Jared’s shoulder, and Jared’s sure even if it had been bitterly cold, he wouldn’t have had the heart to move.

Evan mumbles something, mostly inaudible even so close to him, and Jared nudges him gently. He’s make a snide remark, some witty rejoinder, but it’s late, and he’s tired, and he doesn’t need to perform for anyone right now.

“Speak up, dude,” he says instead, just loud enough to be heard. He’s pretty sure he is, anyway. It didn’t seem right to break the silence any more than that.

Evan hums, stares into the middle distance, and then shifts. Says, hesitantly, “I missed this.”

It sure _sounds_ like that’s what he says anyway, though it’s still a little hard to make out. He looks flustered enough that Jared’s not going to press to find out, even though he wants to. Asking him about something he obviously feels weird about isn’t half as much fun for Evan as it is for him. He’s learning not to push so much, and it’s hard as shit, but he’s trying.

He thinks it might be worth it, for this.

They’re kind of stargazing, except neither of them has ever been any good at picking out constellations, so it’s just like they’re watching the sky instead. It’s something they used to do a lot as kids. It’s not something he ever thought he’d do again.

Everything’s moving slowly for him, so it takes him a minute to realise that he wants to hold Evan’s hand. He does a lot of the time, but it’s not usually a conscious thought. It shouldn’t be surprising, or important, but his chest gets tight, and everything gets dimmer. It’s almost like there’s suddenly a wall between him and the rest of the world, like it’s been muffled. Or maybe it’s just than Evan suddenly feels so loud.

He should say something, or feels like he should, but just the thought of it has him feeling lightheaded. He doesn’t even know what he’d say. ‘Sorry, I know we’re only just remembering how to be friends, and after all the shit we’ve been through you have no reason to even care, but I think I’m in love with you. Just thought I’d let you know.’

It’s dangerous, thinking things like this right out in the open. Feels a little like someone might overhear. It would be a mistake, telling Evan anything like that. He knows he’s never going to, because he knows it would never work out, even though every time he thinks about it he still gets this sharp little bolt of adrenaline, that momentary what-if. But what if it works, he always asks himself, stumbling over the idea even as he tells himself how ridiculous it is. What if, just this once, I got what I wanted. What if it was okay. Pretending he’s a pessimist has always worked out for him, recounting that age-old adage about never having to be disappointed if you never have any expectations. It’s a lie. No matter how many times things go wrong that traitorous little spark of hope will tell him things are going to be okay. That this time things are going to work out, though they’ve gone wrong a hundred times before.

Maybe it’s true. Maybe at the end of the day he’s always right. Maybe it just takes time to work.

He reaches out slowly and presses the back of his hand against Evan’s, knuckles to knuckles. A compromise for the sake of his continued sanity. It could be an accident.

Evan’s not looking at him, but Jared can see the ghost of a smile on his face, like he’s not even thinking about it. Like he’s been caught unawares. Jared’s heart is beating loud as all hell and he has to look away before he does something even more stupid. Has to remind himself just how often Evan smiles out of sheer awkwardness. It doesn’t mean anything, but he wants it to.

Wishing on a star is stupid. Jared doesn’t believe in anything like that, but he’s sat pressed up against Evan’s side, looking up into the sky, and for right now it feels almost possible. He keeps watching, hoping for a miracle.

Evan leans into him more, though there was hardly a great deal of space between them anyway, and it takes all of Jared’s self control not to jump at the movement. He’s never felt this kind of nervous energy before in his life. He still feels kind of like he’s somewhere safe. He feels anxious, and scared, and vulnerable, and it doesn’t even matter, really. It should. There’s no reason he should let anybody make him feel this way.

Jared’s trying not to hyper-focus on the single point of skin contact between them, but it’s hard. Evan’s avoiding his gaze, but Jared’s not making a point of trying to draw his attention. It could just be that he really does want to watch the sky, but his cheeks are red, barely noticeable, except Jared notices everything about him, at least usually.

The button on his left hand sleeve is undone, he notices belatedly, but fixing that would mean moving his hand, and if he moves it he’s not sure he’d ever work up the courage to reach out again. It’s not even as though touching Evan is strange - Jared had never been one for hugs, for a number of reasons, but since everything had gone back to almost-normal they’ve both been a little on edge. The physical contact is grounding. This time around it just feels oddly intimate.

Jared invents worlds where he bridges the gap between them and Evan doesn’t pull away. Worlds where he says the things he wants to and Evan doesn’t hate him, where he still wants to be friends, where he isn’t confused and upset. Where he’s okay with it. Where he might say it back. In the closest possible world to this one, where he reaches out and doesn’t pull back at the last second like he’s afraid of jumping, he thinks - maybe things work out. For the time being, this is enough.

“I’m sorry,” Evan starts, out of the blue, squinting at Jared through the darkness. It would seem like an out of place statement if it wasn’t one he keeps making every now and again, randomly, like he’s worried Jared will forget.

“You messed up, yeah, I know,” Jared says, cutting him off. “I’ve also known about your chronic need to over-apologise for years. You don’t need to keep saying it.

He doesn’t tell Evan how reassuring it is to hear, every time. It makes him feel like maybe he might want this to work out as much as Jared does, that the distance was just as bad for him. It would almost feel like a nice thought, if it didn’t make him feel so goddamn selfish. Still. He deserved at least the first apology.

He doesn’t say anything like that, though, just flexes the fingers on his left hand in an attempt to ease the stiffness. His right hand’s just going to have to deal with it.

Realistically it’s getting too late to still be out. Jared has plans tomorrow, tech work for a show and some programming work he still needs to get done. It’s cold, and he needs to stretch his legs, and they aren’t even talking anymore. They’d run out of things to say a long time ago, or at least stopped feeling like they needed to. It’s not an uncomfortable silence.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, you know,” Evan says, like he’s overheard Jared’s internal monologue. It wouldn’t even be a surprise if he had - he’d always known what he was thinking.

Jared wants to make a snide remark, because it’s over-dramatic and obvious, and he knows it’s going to become some weird sentimental thing. He doesn’t. He’ll let Evan have this one.

“I’m happy I know you,” he carries on, mildly, like he hasn’t said something staggering. “It’s not… that hasn’t changed.”

They’re friends. Jared should know that Evan likes him, there’s no reason they’d have made up at all if they didn’t care about each other at least a little, but it feels different for him to say he’s actually happy to know Jared. The sum total of everything Jared’s done for Evan - _to_ Evan - should be in the negatives. It’s different for Jared, because everything bad between them was probably his own fault, somewhere down the line, and because what Evan is to Jared isn’t the same as what he is to Evan.

“Me too,” Jared says. It feels safe being vulnerable when he doesn’t have to look at him, when Evan’s said it first, when Jared’s still touching his hand and pretending it doesn’t matter to him.

Evan knows every pointless thing about him. Evan knows his favourite colour, his favourite animal, his favourite song. How distant everything feels sometimes. How he’s never really felt safe with anyone (except, perhaps, Evan, but he’s never told him that part). How he regrets most everything he’s ever done, and doesn’t know how to be okay with it. How he’s working through that, and it’s slow, but it’s happening, and he wants to be proud of himself.

It’s reciprocal, but he wonders if Evan understands how much Jared is giving up, telling him those things. How every time he lets another secret slip out it’s like he’s trusting him not to turn away, and each time he does it feels more and more like this is the last time he’ll get to do it. That this is the last time Evan will be okay with hearing it. It’s only gotten worse. It’s terrifying.

“It’s getting late,” Jared says. He’s sabotaging himself, but he’s worried the longer they stay out here the more likely it gets that he’s going to do something reckless, and he doesn’t want to be the one to push the boat. In many ways Evan’s always been the braver of the two.

Evan hums. “It’s nice out.”

“It’s getting cold as hell,” Jared says, “just because you have a superhuman ability to deal with the outside world doesn’t mean we all do. Some of us live indoors 90% of the time. The last time I was out this late was at summer camp, and that was only because a huge fuck-off spider got into our cabin. This is an unbelievable sacrifice on my part, and you’re dismissing it by claiming this is anything but the worst.”

“You’re being a baby,” Evan says. “It’s not that bad. Go inside if you want.”

Jared doesn’t move, and if he looks closely he’d say that Evan looks a little pleased.

Evan opens his mouth and pauses, like he’s going to say something but then thinks better of it. Jared wants to tell him to say whatever it is anyway, because even when he’s talking nonsense about something Jared couldn’t care less about he listens, because it’s Evan. If he were a nicer guy he’d listen to what everyone had to say ever, but he only has so much patience, and Evan’s ecology talk drains most of it. He tells him as much, every time he starts going off on a tangent, but it’s never stopped him and Jared’s never actually meant it.

Evan stares at the ground, or at least tilts his head away from the sky. It’s getting harder to make out what he’s looking at, which means it’s probably harder for him to tell that Jared’s staring at him instead of just whatever it is behind him. Harder, but still pretty easy.

He’s thinking about that still when Evan moves his hand, turns it and fumbles loosely for Jared’s, like he’s nervous. Everything focuses in on that one point of contact between them. Everything goes dark, and it’s like a movie, like this is the climax, the big reveal - the moment Evan turns to him and says he’s so glad that they’re friends. Just friends, obviously.

He doesn’t. Instead he sort of hesitates, briefly, and then curls his fingers around Jared’s, and goes quiet. Even quieter than he already was.

Jared’s throat feels dry, and he struggles to swallow. He’s never going to be able to speak again. He feels rushed, like he needs to get his voice working immediately, like everything depends on him saying something, the right thing, and every second he wastes is a second something good slips away from him.

“I -” he starts, and then falters. He always has something to say, even when it’s stupid. He doesn’t stumble over his words unless things go really wrong and this - well. It’s not wrong. He thinks his hand might be shaking, a little.  “Um,” he manages, and then tries to choke back the words he wants to say next, because they need to be better.

“Is this okay?” Evan asks, softly, like he’s the one who should be nervous.

“Yeah,” Jared says, keeping his voice even. It doesn’t mean anything. “It’s okay.”

Sitting with Evan like this makes him feel like a little kid again. Not just because he’s remembering all the evenings they’ve had like this, before they got older and Jared got distant and stupid, but because it feels like the two of them being there is important. Everything about being a little kid feels important, everything is a great adventure they’re going to remember for the rest of their lives. This time it might be true.

It’s too dark for the moon to be illuminating Evan’s face, but it should be. He deserves every poetic cliche - like if there was one person out there who should get to be the hero it’s him. The one who gets the happy ending, who gets to look beautiful and otherworldly and important. But it’s real life, and there’s barely any shine at all now, too much light pollution for them to see any more than a handful of stars. It’s become chilly enough that Jared’s fingers are getting numb, and Evan’s holding his free arm against himself and sniffling with the cold, and it’s basically the same thing anyway.

“I’m going,” Jared says. He tugs on Evan’s hand a little as he does, which is scary despite the fact that he wasn’t the one who turned this into actual hand-holding.

Evan huffs, almost a laugh, and lets go of him to brush some non-existent grass off his legs. Jared tells himself he doesn’t immediately miss the contact. When he opens the sliding door to his kitchen, Evan follows.

There’s leftover pizza sitting on the counter. Jared had meant to put it in the fridge before Evan had said something ridiculous and he’d gotten distracted, and now he’s not sure if it’s something they should even be considering eating tomorrow, but he shoves it in there anyway. At least it means that they’ll both get food poisoning.

He has a pull-out mattress set up in his room for once, instead of just making Evan sleep on the living room couch. They were meant to be playing video games, and had been for a while, but Evan’s always been surprisingly good at them, and Jared’s self-esteem can only take so many losses. Going outside was an excuse to kill some time, except now it seems like maybe it was more important than that. He’d only suggested video games in the first place because it had been a while since they’d hung out, and Jared’s trying to get better at treating Evan like an actual friend again. It’s not like he’s had much experience with them.

They should sleep, Jared thinks, and then says “do you want to watch a film or something?”

Evan looks at him like he’s said something funny. “I thought the whole reason we were coming in was so you could sleep?”

“I never said that. Just that my delicate constitution isn’t suited for the cold.”

Evan rolls his eyes, or makes a facial expression that means roughly the same thing.

“Fine,” he says. ”But you’re not picking it.”

It’s a compromise he’s willing to make, even if it pains him a little. Ever since he gave Evan his Netflix password he’s started watching a ton of bizarre indie shit, even more so than Jared does himself, and _he’s_ made a practised effort to be pretentious about films. Evan, weirdly enough, seems to actually like them, beyond the aesthetics or the statement they’re making or whatever it is that’s meant to make the movies culturally important. Like they’re actually entertaining. Most of the time they’re not.

Evan pulls up some weird comedy Jared’s never heard of before (par for the course), which is nice in that it’s at least not one of the depressing introspective movies he’s been into lately. It’s not that Jared intentionally checks what Evan’s watching, just that he’s never bothered to make a separate profile, and Jared, for some reason, has never asked him to. He’s not planning on really watching it anyway.

Jared leaves Evan alone, trying to time the pause right so he doesn’t miss anything but the opening credits, and heads off to get a drink. Being around Evan isn’t something he can do for an extended period of time, not because he’s boring or frustrating, but because Jared’s heart can only cope with so much. He pours Evan a glass of water as he gets himself a coke, because he knows Evan gets weird about drinking caffeine past, like, 8 o’clock in the evening. Usually he’d microwave some popcorn too, but his stomach is still rolling a little with a mix of unnecessary excitement and fear, and he’s worried that if he eats anything he might actually be sick.

When he gets back to his room Evan’s already bundled up in the duvet Jared’s lending him, sitting on Jared’s bed like he doesn’t need an invitation (he doesn’t). It’s a better view from there, Jared reasons.

He settles the drinks on his bedside table and takes a seat next to Evan, so they’re side by side again. Evan starts up the film, and Jared pretends like he’s interested as the camera starts panning across some nondescript landscape of a field. Evan can tell that he’s not paying attention, almost certainly, but he doesn’t bother calling him out on it. It’s the thought that counts.

It’s kind of unfair that Evan gets a duvet and he doesn’t. They’re sat on Jared’s, and he doesn’t care enough to actually make a problem out of it, but it’s exactly the kind of thing he’d usually love to start a petty (faux) argument about. Evan figures out as much, somehow, before Jared’s done a thing, some kind of bizarre precognition (that or Jared’s just easy to predict, which may also be true), and moves his arm to drape one half of the sheet over Jared’s shoulder. He hesitates, just for a second, so briefly that Jared’s half-convinced he’s dreamt it up, before he moves his arm back.

It feels like they’re doing the most ridiculous, pointless dance around one another, but it can’t be true, because Evan’s not like that. That’s what Jared keeps thinking to himself, trying pathetically to ease the horrible lightness in his chest.

And then he reaches out, and puts his arm around Evan’s waist, and stares pointedly just past the TV screen as he says “don’t make this weird.”

“You’re making it weird, Jared,” Evan says, but he sounds like he’s smiling anyway.

He’s warm, unsurprisingly. That’s about all he has time to think to himself before Evan reaches out and does the same, and then it’s like they’re doing some ridiculous, pointless half-hug, and it’s too hot inside for it to be at all a sensible course of action. It could be platonic, Jared thinks, but now, holding Evan, it’s hard to keep convincing himself he’s not allowed to hope for something more.

Evan deserves the romantic cliches. He smiles and it makes Jared want to go out and buy a guitar, play all those terrible, _awful_ love songs alone in his room, pining like every bad rom-com. He’s never wanted to play the guitar before in his life, not until Evan smiles like that. Guitars are basic and boring and pretty much everyone who claims they can play is only capable of managing something like four chords, and Jared couldn’t live with himself if that became his sole personality trait like it always seems to for the people involved. He’d be willing to for Evan, though. It’s a horrible thought. It makes him feel ill, but only in the giddy way you sometimes get when you’re feel so alive you want to do something stupid.

If he was watching this on TV, if he was hearing about this from literally anybody else, he’d be the first to say how dumb it all was. Nobody acts like that, not really, they’re not even hugging properly, it doesn’t mean _anything,_ but he’s still sat there with his heart in his throat feeling hideously, genuinely, happy. Being near Evan feels the way it does when you’re sitting in a window on a sunny day.

Jared’s not even acting like he cares about the film now, is mostly just focused on trying not to go red, or act like this is a big deal, or do anything at all that might indicate just how emotionally compromised he is. Evan’s fingers are still kind of calloused, he thinks, though as far as Jared knows he hasn’t climbed any trees in a long time. It’s not something anyone would have noticed if they hadn’t been looking, but he’s tired of pretending he hasn’t always paid a little too much attention to Evan. He’s tired of staring at the back of his head and looking away every time he moves even a little.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to break the silence.

The film’s playing slow in the background, and Jared’s only half-following it when Evan says, stumbling over his words in a way he never does with Jared, “I think I should - I need to tell you something.”

And Jared’s stomach seems to bottom out. He’s already preparing himself for the worst, running through the lines in his head, the way he can brush this off, pretend like he doesn’t care, like he’s as unshakeable and disinterested as he’s always tried to be. It’s not working, everything’s getting muddled, but he knows if Evan just gives him a minute, just lets him think for a second -

“I, um, I know this probably isn’t the right time, and we’ve not really even been on speaking terms with each other for that long, but I just… I have a crush on you,” he says, and it takes Jared far too long to register what he’s actually saying. That he’s not rejecting him, his friendship, his whatever. “Or, I guess, not a crush, but. Um. I didn’t want you to find out some other way, and I thought if it was going to be a problem or something, well. It’s better for you to know now. Before.”

His heart is pounding so hard it’s difficult to focus.

“You, uh,” he says, like an idiot. “What?”

“I thought it was kind of obvious,” Evan says, gone quiet like he’s expecting the worst and he doesn’t want Jared to freak out.

“I don’t - no, I don’t mean that this is. It’s not a bad thing,” he tries, “it’s not going to be a problem.”

“Okay,” Evan says. It’s breaking Jared’s heart.

“That’s - what I meant to say was that I, uh, feel the same way. Obviously.”

Evan gives him a withering look. “How is that _obvious_?”

It unreal, the whole situation.

“It’s been a long time,” Jared says, as an honest sort-of explanation, trying to steady his voice and pretend it isn’t a horrible admission to be making, “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. Or I guess I’ve been in love with you. For a long time.”

He doesn’t watch for Evan’s reaction because it feels like it’s ripping him apart inside just saying that. A crush is one thing. This is… too much more.

“Oh my god,” Evan says, “you are so stupid. You are just the worst.”

“What?” Jared starts. “Here I am, baring my soul to you, and you have the nerve - the audacity -”

Evan tugs him close, and leans in to kiss him, and Jared doesn’t bother trying to say anything more after that. When Evan pulls away a second later he’s bright red, and Jared wants to tease him relentlessly for it. He’s too amped up on adrenaline to do anything more than stare.

“Me too,” Evan says, and then he leans forward to press his face up against Jared’s shoulder.

The films plays merrily on in the background.

“I love you,” Evan says after a minute or two of silence, muffled, and Jared’s pretty confident that’s why he moved in the first place, so he wouldn’t have to say it out loud, properly. He can’t blame him. It’s a big thing to say, and he tells himself that’s why his voice cracks a little when he replies.

“I love you too. I guess.”

The admission makes him feel kind of terrible, so uncomfortable and awkward and wrong, like Evan might suddenly have changed his mind - and then he looks up, and starts laughing, the weird, high-pitched, delighted way Jared remembers he always used to, all wonky, and he stops thinking about it. Evan reaches out, fumbles for his hand, and Jared wants to hold him and never let go again. 

He can say with almost complete certainty that he’s never been this happy before in his life.

They should probably turn the movie off. Finish their drinks (Evan never even started his, as far as Jared could tell, and he's basically been watching him the whole time), change, go to bed. The idea of Evan moving more than a couple of centimetres away seems unbearable, so Jared runs his free hand through Evan's hair to remind himself this is real life.

There’s lots to talk about, lots of things to say. There are still so many ways it could go wrong, but right now none of it matters. Right now Evan loves him, and he knows, and he doesn’t care what comes next.

Jared feels foolish, and bright, and ridiculous, like he’s done something incredible and he’s just waiting for somebody to notice. And they do.

**Author's Note:**

> i have already written a fic almost identical to this one. please don't @ me. unbeta'd because... i don't know. i think this finishes too abruptly but i just needed to get it out there x__x maybe ill extend it sometime in the future. title from seaside improvisation by siken
> 
> tumblr @ [goldspill](http://goldspill.tumblr.com). please talk to me about my boys


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